


Don't ask questions if you're not prepared for answers

by deargodwhatisthatthing



Category: Gintama
Genre: Embarrassment, Explicit Sexual Content, Humour, M/M, Sexual Humor, Takasugi trying to play the only sane man and failing miserably
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-11-04
Packaged: 2018-08-29 02:19:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8471815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deargodwhatisthatthing/pseuds/deargodwhatisthatthing
Summary: I hope this doesn't piss off any Takasugi fans!  It's affectionate, really - I usually like making Katsura squirm, and he's my favourite, so... comments welcomed - even if it's just to let me know their *true* rankings! :)





	

Katsura felt his knees buckle as Takasugi took the length of him into his mouth and drew his fingers down the smooth skin beneath, warm and wet and squeezing. “T-Takasugi!” he gasped. “Not here, please! Someone will see- ah!” He yelped as the other man drew back his head, dragging his teeth lightly over the delicate skin. Takasugi smiled up at him with his lips resting against the very tip of him, his fingers probing, questing. His voice, deep and mocking, vibrated through Katsura, making him quiver involuntarily. “What if I want someone to see? The Rampaging Noble, with his legs spread for the Kiheitai Commander.” His fingers, two of them, found what they were looking for and twitched – Katsura arched his back.

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it, Zura. I know what you want. But you can’t have it yet.” Abruptly, Takasugi pulled away and stood as Katsura sank to his knees like a counterweight, panting, unsatisfied. He yelped again, as Takasugi grabbed a fistful of his silky hair in one hand and unbuttoned his fly with the other. “I think I’ll get mine first.”

***

The grey morning light filtered apathetically through the clouds; day was breaking but it didn’t seem to be trying very hard. The campsite looked worse than ever, clumps of men sitting listlessly, huddled together to eke out the meagre remaining rations, tending to minor wounds and trying not register the groaning from those with major ones.

Somehow, reaching your hand out towards the fire only seemed to make the rest of you colder, Takasugi thought. He refused to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him shiver. He sat, flipping the tails of his coat over the log, and clucked his tongue irritably. “God, this looks disgusting.” He peered over to the pot next to Katsura. “Oi Zura, is there any rice left? Or have you bastards finished it all?”

There was a brief pause, and then Katsura muttered. “There’s some left.” Takasugi shot a look at the other man – he sat, ramrod straight with his hands stiffly in his lap. His eyes wouldn’t meet Takasugi’s and there was an ever-so-slight tinge of pink in his pale cheeks.

Zura, drinking in the morning? It seemed unlikely. Perhaps hungover from yesterday. Takasugi narrowed his eyes but decided not to ask. He knelt beside the pot and reached in for the wooden spoon. Digging inside, he groped around with his other hand for a bowl but found nothing. “Pass that bowl, Zura. Oi. Oi, Zura!”

This time, Katsura even turned his face away a little before he spoke. “I’m not sure there’s anything… _clean_ here.”

Takasugi had known Katsura a long time and, while he didn’t much care for the niceties of morning conversation, he’d be damned if he was going to put up with this kind of disrespect. “What the fuck is the matter with you? Oi! Look at me when you talk to me, you bastard.”

“Perhaps he had a hot dream about you last night,” drawled a voice. Takasugi turned and there was Gintoki – actually, there he had been all along, sprawled on the floor like a dog – which was probably where he’d woken up, the lazy bastard. He leered up at Takasugi and picked his nose lazily. “He can’t bear to look at your face, remembering all the disgusting things it did to him last night.”

Takasugi kicked a nearby spoon at Gintoki, missing his irritating face, which only made him grin wider. He turned back to Zura, only to find that the other man had flushed bright pink all the way to the roots of his hair. Takasugi’s mouth fell open, and behind him he heard Gintoki sit up abruptly and then give a bark of laughter. “Holy fucking shit, I was right?! I wasn’t even trying!”

“What the- are you fucking serious?” Takasugi realised that he was still frozen half inside the rice pot and sat back with his mouth still open. If Katsura’s head could have turned any further on his neck, it would have been on completely backwards; he was now _radiating_ pinkness. “You filthy bastard,” Takasugi said, outraged. “How dare you think that sort of thing about me without my permission. That’s- that’s a violation!”

“Don’t be a prude, Takasugi.” Gintoki’s eyes gleamed under his eyelids and he gave an infuriating leer. Takasugi knew that usually he would have been the first to leap on the opportunity to make prissy little Zura feel uncomfortable, but that he found Takasugi a much more satisfying target. “It’s totally natural, everyone’s had a dream where they’ve done this and that and the _other_ thing with someone inappropriate, like a teacher or a family member or some angry little guy they know…” He managed an expression which was both lethargic and fucking delighted. “The heart knows what it wants…”

“Shut up, Gintoki – my heart doesn’t know anything!” Katsura’s head snapped back round, scowling at the sniggering Gintoki. “I didn’t _want_ to dream about him. And anyway this was nothing to do with the heart, this was my mouth and Takasugi’s-

“ _Don’t you DARE finish that sentence_ ,” Takasugi hissed. He glowered fiercely at Katsura, who opened his mouth again to protest at being cut off and then stopped, thinking better of it. Takasugi located a bowl and crammed some rice into it before propelling himself back onto the log; he began shovelling food into his mouth belligerently, daring anyone to speak. No one did – Katsura remained motionless with his hands folded neatly into his sleeves, Gintoki slumped back languidly on the ground and began playing idly with the rice spoon.

A few minutes passed.

“So… how was it then?”

Katsura looked up with a startled expression. Takasugi scowled off into the distance with his arms tightly folded across his chest and (he was embarrassed to realise) a slight blush across his cheekbones. He glanced back at Katsura sullenly. “Well?”

Katsura considered it awkwardly. “It was…” He hesitated - “…intense.”

“Hmm.” It was absurd, but he felt a faint flush of smugness through him. “Well,” slightly pompously, “well, at least you had fun in your filthy dream.”

There was a pleasurable silence for a few moments and then Katsura fidgeted. “Well… I wouldn’t have called it fun, exactly.”

“What?” Takasugi looked back at him and frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Katsura shrugged. “Well, just that. It wasn’t exactly, you know, fun. You were very snarly and intense. And there was a lot of growling and thrashing about. And you know…” He gestured, “ _biting_. But you didn’t seem to care if I were enjoying myself.” Katsura’s voice took on a rather petulant quality and he shot a rather disapproving look in Takasugi’s direction. “It felt like you were on, you know, a bit of a power trip.”

“What the- _what_?!”

“He’s saying you weren’t very tender, Takasugi.” Gintoki grinned at him maddeningly. “Try to keep up.”

“How dare you! I’m very good in bed!” He hated how affronted he sounded and he knew it was ridiculous but he couldn’t help it.

“I’d give you, say, a 3 out of 10 for fun and 2 out of 10 for gallanty.” Katsura said, reflectively. He was warming to his subject now. “Tatsuma was more like a 9 and a 5.”

“A 2? Wait – _what_? Sakamoto was there?! Were we just forming an orderly queue with our dicks out?”

“No, don’t be ridiculous! …this was a totally different dream.”

“How many of these dreams have you had?! No, wait. I don’t want to know.” He shook his head and came back to the important point. “And how am I a 2 out of 10 for fun? Wait – is that a fucking _flipchart_?!”

It was, apparently. “Look, you don’t have to get upset,” Zura said reasonably, tapping the chart. “See, you’re getting a 10 for intensity, and since Sakamoto only gets a 2, that means you’re only one point behind him.”

“No way. No fucking way.” Takasugi stood up and pointed a finger at Katsura, incensed. “I refuse to believe that there is even a single parallel universe in which _Sakamoto_ is a better lay than I am.” He ran a hand through his hair, gripping it by the roots a little. “ _Sakamoto_. That giggling idiot. It’d be like fucking a clown.”

Gintoki shook his curly head. “You’re taking this very literally, Takasugi. Zura’s not saying that Sakamoto _was_ a better lay than you – he’s just saying that his unconscious mind _thinks_ that he’s a better lay than you.”

“That’s worse! Well, not worse, but-“

“Actually, Tatsuma’s laid-back attitude really creates a relaxed atmosphere in which you can, you know, be more adventurous. There was some very creative, ambitious stuff that we tried, which mostly didn’t work out and we ended up laughing about it instead. Then we cuddled up and watched a movie.”

“Oh my god, how _long_ was this dream? I’ve read books with less narrative.”

“All my dreams have narratives,” said Katsura, primly, as he filled out the rest of the chart. “It’s how I process things.”

Takasugi dragged his hand d own his face and glowered at them both. “Don’t we see too much of each other while we’re awake as it is? Am I the only one who’s not banging you bunch of losers in my head all night?”

“Ah haha hahaha haa! I think you must be, Bakasugi!” Sakamoto had popped up from nowhere, smiling cheerfully in the face of Takasugi’s fury. “I’ve had loads of them. Oi, Zura, give yourself a 10 for gallantry. You’re a very considerate man in the sack, in my experience.”

“And a 9 for intensity, I think.” Gintoki gave himself three 10s, and was promptly corrected to 9 / 9 / 7 by Katsura. “No fair, Zura. Ah, I’m still winning anyway.”

Takasugi sat very still for a moment, watching the three of them crowding round the chart, discussing this... this… _madness_ , as if it were the most normal thing in the world. _Perhaps it’s me who’s gone mad_ , he reflected, as if from very far away. These men – he’d die for these men. He’d charged into battle with them; risked life and limb to bring them back from the battlefield intact and whole; shared experiences with them so intense he wasn’t sure where their bloodstained limbs had ended and his had begun. And now he would cheerfully end every last one of their sorry lives if only they’d shut. the. fuck. up.

“Ha ha haha! You’re officially coming last, Bakasugi. I suppose that’s what you get for being too rough.”

“And there is such a thing as too much tongue, you know”, said Katsura reproachfully.

That was the last straw; Takasugi stood up, fuming. “Fuck you.” He jabbed his finger at Katsura, and then at Gintoki and Sakamoto in turn. “And fuck you, and you too. I’m not going to be critiqued by people who I’ve never even slept with. Am I the only one here whose mind isn’t running about fucking his comrades all night?” He gathered up the tattered remains of his dignity and glared at them through his hair. “You all make me sick.” With that, he stalked off.

***

Sickly as ever, the rising sun fought the same old battle with the clouds. Men groaned, picked up their weapons, readied themselves for another dispiriting day on the losing side. Sakamoto staggered up to the campfire and settled himself next to Takasugi, who immediately got up and moved to another log. All this was normal to Sakamoto, and he got on with his breakfast oblivious. It was only when he got up to reach for the water skin that he noticed Takasugi’s tense demeanour, his flushed cheeks, his turned face.

He sat back on the log, his head cocked like a shaggy spaniel. “Sex dream?”

Takasugi grunted.

“All of us there?”

“Maybe.”

“Can’t look at us?”

“Nope.”

Sakamoto shook his head sympathetically and poked at his rice. Silence fell between them.

“…Oi. Sakamoto.”

“Uh?”

“I’d give you more of a 7 for gallantry.”

“… thanks.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope this doesn't piss off any Takasugi fans! It's affectionate, really - I usually like making Katsura squirm, and he's my favourite, so... comments welcomed - even if it's just to let me know their *true* rankings! :)


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